


Whatever They Called Her

by bellanaris



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Some Plot, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-14 13:40:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3412718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellanaris/pseuds/bellanaris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Terrorist. Herald of Andraste. Leader of the Inquisition. Whatever the people call her, Althea Trevelyan struggles to hold on to who she was before the Anchor while trying to live up to the new expectations placed on her.</p><p> </p><p>A series of shots throughout Althea's journey from criminal to Inquisitor, some related to in-game events and some from the moments in between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Criminal

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing anything like this, so suggestions/constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated! The in-game dialogue in these early chapters is pulled from my admittedly shoddy memory, so if the lines are a bit altered, please keep that in mind. Thanks and I hope you enjoy!

She was aware of the pain in her hand first. A dull throbbing, starting in her palm and radiating outward, pulsing in time with every beat of her heart. Slowly, the rest of the aches and pains of her body began to filter in, bone-deep weariness and muscle bruises dragging her back to the waking world. She was cold and her knees hurt, stone digging into the skin. There was an unnatural heaviness around her wrists, another layer of cold that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. She struggled against the fatigue and the urge to sink back into the dreams of the Fade, and her eyes fluttered open.

Darkness, punctuated by torchlight. Her vision was fuzzy, objects blurring around her. She blinked once, twice, clearing the fog from her eyes, and immediately wished she hadn't.

Althea Trevelyan flinched back from the swords ringed around her, a terrified gasp wrenching itself from her throat. With a loud clank, the iron manacles around her wrists brought her up short, rusty metal cutting into her skin. She stared down at the restraints in horror before lifting her gaze to the soldiers and their swords once more. The possibilities raced through her mind, chasing each other like panicked rabbits. Had she attacked someone, killed them with her magic? Had she shown signs of possession, returned from the Fade with an unwelcome passenger in control of her body? She went cold at the thought. Were they going to make her Tranquil?! Her hands began to shake violently as a sob filled her chest. What had she done to deserve imprisonment? Her mind raced, clattering through thoughts like a cornered animal, but she recalled nothing.

The pain in her hand increased sharply, putting an abrupt stop to her panic. She lifted it hesitantly, turning her palm upwards. The assembled soldiers broke their silence for the first time, shifting anxiously, swords quivering closer to her. Thea ignored them, fixated on her left hand. There was a mark there, a strange spiraling pattern that she couldn't quite make out. She leaned in closer, lifting her hands as high as the manacles would allow, and squinted at her palm in the dim light.

A brief tingling was the only warning she had. Pain ripped through her hand and down her arm, quick, brief, but intense, and the mark lit up with a flare of crackling green energy. Thea cried out and flinched away, her panic overriding logic as she tried to distance herself from her own hand. The soldiers were audibly murmuring to one another now, their fear and unease mingling with her own. One broke away from the circle, sheathing his sword and swiftly exiting the dungeon. Thea saw a brief glimpse of the sky and felt another blast of cold air as he hurried out the door, and the urge to flee rose up strongly. She could blast the soldiers back, freeze and shatter the manacles with little more than a thought. She could escape, find a weapon, and... and what? She was sick, possibly wounded, and there was a strange, glowing brand on her palm. She had no idea where she was, so even if she were to escape, where would she go?

The door to the dungeon slammed open again and Thea jerked back with a startled gasp. Two women strode in, both tall and imposing to a mage on her knees and in chains. The first was taller, clearly a soldier even if she hadn't been wearing armor. At first glance, her hair seemed short, almost a man's cut, but then Thea spotted the braid encircling her head. Longer than it seemed, then, and black as the shadows formed by the torch light. Her face was all planes and angles, with no hint of softness; attractive, but cold, like a living statue. A long scar ran parallel to her jaw on the left side of her face and another, much smaller, marred the skin over her right cheekbone. Her eyes were dark brown, chestnut or mahogany, and full of a terrifying anger. The long sword at the woman's side became even more frightening when paired with that anger.

Thea scrambled back as far as the manacles would allow as the armed woman advanced, fury and purpose in every movement. It reminded her too much of a Templar. The woman stopped in front of her, lips pressed in a line of anger and hatred. "Why?" Her voice was brusque and low, though the Navarran accent was a surprise. Thea stared at her dumbly, unsure of what she was asking. The woman's brows lowered further. "Why?!"

"'Why' what?!" The sarcastic query escaped Thea's mouth before she could stop herself. If the dark-haired woman was surprised at her dwarven accent, perfected over years of imitation, she didn't show it. The answer, unsurprisingly, did appear to incense her further, though.

"Why did you destroy the Conclave?" the woman thundered, towering over Thea, forcing the mage to flinch away. "What was the point?!"

The Conclave... Memories came back in a rush. First Enchanted Lydia asking her to represent the Ostwick mages. Leaving Ostwick for the first time in her life. Coming to Haven, to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The sense of unease and thinly veiled animosity hanging in the air. And then... and then -

"Answer me!" The dark-haired woman's voice dragged Thea back to the present. "The Conclave is destroyed and you are the only survivor!" The last bit drew Thea's attention, but the other woman was determined to get the information she sought, whether Thea had it or not. "Tell me!"

"I didn't do anything!" Thea shouted back and as she said the words, she realized she believed them. Whatever had happened at the Conclave, she hadn't been a part of it, amnesia be damned.

The woman grabbed her left arm and lifted it as high as the manacles would allow. "Explain this." As if her words were a summons, the mark on Thea's palm crackled with green energy again, pain lancing along her arm. Thea's breath hissed through clenched teeth and she tried to jerk her arm back, but the woman's grip on her wrist was resolute. "Tell me what you remember." She pushed Thea's arm back at her, the combined momentum and weight of the iron manacles causing the mage to fold forward over her knees.

Thea struggled to push past the pain in her hand and recall anything, "I remember... being chased by something and -" An image flashed through her mind: a woman's silhouette, comprised of pale light. "A woman?" She shook her head, looking up at the raven-haired woman pleasingly. "That's all I know."

"You're lying!" the other woman accused, her hand coming to rest on the pommel of her sword, fingers clenching around the metal. "The Divine is dead, the temple is destroyed, and you are the only one to survive -" She gestured toward Thea's left hand "- with that mark." The metal of the blade whispered against the leather of the strap holding it to her waist as she began to pull it free.

"Enough, Cassandra." The raven-haired woman's companion stepped in, laying a hand on her arm. Like Cassandra, she was pretty, though her features were much softer than the dark-haired woman's. Her eyes were large and blue, a shade or two darker than Thea's own, and she was of similar height to the young mage. She wore a hooded coat of mail, but it hung away from her face just enough to reveal chin-length, bright red hair. "We may still need her." She was Orlesian, her voice more melodic than her compatriot's.

The dark-haired woman - Cassandra - glared at the red-head for a long moment, but her grip slowly relaxed on her sword. Thea ignored both of them, Cassandra's words ringing in her ears. _The Divine is dead, the temple is destroyed, and you are the only one to survive._ If that was true, then - Faces flashed through her mind, one standing out clearer than the rest: a young elven woman, also a mage, angular face tipped to the side, dark hair pulled back in a long braid, lips curved up in a sunny smile that reached all the way to her olive eyes. Thea's chest constricted painfully, her pulse hammering in her ears. If she was the only survivor, then her friends... Mela'rah... they were -

"Take everyone to the forward camp, Leliana." Cassandra's voice broke through Thea's horror, giving her enough reason to focus on something else, to push the realization further away. "I will deal with her." Leliana hesitated, her eyes narrowing for a moment, but she turned and retraced her steps to the dungeon door. The circle of soldiers sheathed their swords and followed without a word, leaving Thea alone with Cassandra. The dark-haired woman glared down at her and Thea wondered if Cassandra had sent Leliana and the solider away to avoid any witnesses to her execution. However, the other woman surprised her by crouching down and unlocking her manacles. Up close, Thea could see a weariness around Cassandra's eyes and in her shoulders.

"What happens now?" The question was out before Thea could pull it back. Cassandra glanced up at her, but didn't answer until she finished taking off the manacles and tying Thea's hands together with a length of rope.

"It will be easier to show you." Cassandra hooked a hand under Thea's arm and hauled her to her feet. Thea stumbled, her legs numb from kneeling on the stones for so long, but the taller woman held her upright, supporting her until her legs could take her weight. With a sharp tug, though not hard enough to pull Thea of her feet, Cassandra led her out of the dungeon.

The sudden light after the gloom of the torches seared Thea's eyes and she ducked her head, squinting against the glare. When her eyes had adjusted, she lifted her gaze to the sky and felt the bottom drop out of the world.

A massive tear marred the sky, green energy crackling around the edges. Busts of green light plummeted earthward from the hole, smashing into the ground with concussive force that Thea could feel even at this distance. The thing _felt_ wrong, a pull that dragged at the pit of her stomach, causing bile to rise up in her throat.

The warning tingle flickered along her palm again and her hand jerked up toward the tear of its own volition, pain lancing through her entire arm as the mark flared with green light. Thea cried out and crumpled to her knees, pulling her arm toward her chest. The pain seemed to reach deeper than her arm this time, burrowing toward her heart. It was several moments before she could focus enough to see Cassandra kneeling in front of her.

"Every time the Breach expands, the mark on your hand grows larger. And it is killing you." Thea's breath caught in her throat, but Cassandra continued without pause. "But it may be the key to closing the Breach. To undoing all of this."

"You still think I did this? To myself?" The words hissed through Thea's teeth, weighted down by the cold and the pain in her arm. Between the constriction in her chest and the unnatural feeling from the Breach, she wasn't sure she could stand, let alone be of any help. "Will helping you save me?"

"It is possible," Cassandra said. "There is no way of knowing." She rested a hand under Thea's arm, one eyebrow raised. he mage nodded and Cassandra helped her to her feet, directing her forward with a steadying hand on her shoulder. She directed Thea through the village of Haven careful to keep the younger woman directly in front of her. The villagers of Haven, those still daring to remain outdoors, watched the procession with wary eyes. Thea flinched from the stares, her shoulder pressing back against Cassandra's hand. "They believe you are guilty. They need it. There must be someone responsible for this."

"And naturally that would be me," Thea snapped over her shoulder. The pain in her hand throbbed in time with her pulse, driving the grief back in exchange for anger, though Mela'rah's voice face still flickered at the edges of her thoughts. _Try to rein in the sarcasm, da'len._ Thea clenched her jaw, pushing the phantom rebuke to the back of her mind.

"You fell out of the Fade, followed by someone. Most believe it was Holy Andraste." Thea craned her neck to look back at Cassandra, increduality rising to complement the anger. The other woman's face was impassive, betraying nothing. Thea could just barely remember a woman's shape, blazing with brilliant white light. She didn't believe in the Maker, much less Andraste, but even the fuzzy she image she could recall was enough to raise questions.

Cassandra led her out of the village proper, away from the accusing eyes of the villagers, and untied her hands. Thea massaged her wrists, trying to push away the pain as she restored feeling to her fingers. "Where are you taking me?"

"Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach," Cassandra replied, directing Thea ahead of her. At the end of the short cobblestone walkway was a small wooden gate, which Cassandra directed two soldiers to open. They complied, though they regarded Thea with suspicion, and Cassandra ushered her through. With her hands free and out of the dungeon, Thea briefly considered running again, regardless of whether Cassandra was telling the truth about the mark. The people running to and fro, the sense of fear and panic hanging in the air, the very presence of the Breach above her; all of it had her instincts screaming for her to escape.

But even if she tried, she knew Cassandra wouldn't let her get far. The woman wasn't a Templar - there was no tell-tale tang of lyrium about her - but she was clearly a capable fighter and likely knew how to defend herself against magic. Whether or not she survived this, it seemed she was stuck until the end.

As if her contemplation of her fate was an invitation, a tingle crossed her palm seconds before the Breach pulsed and another bolt of pain shot from her palm down her arm to her chest, more intense than the ones before. It sent Thea to the ground with a guttural shriek, her vision flashing white for a few seconds. Cassandra was at her side immediately, pulling her up and steadying her on her feet. "The pulses are coming faster now. We don't have much time." She left the unspoken implication hanging between them.

Thea nodded and pushed the pain away, forcing herself to lurch up the path after Cassandra. As the burning in her head and hand began to settle, her curiosity slowly resurfaced. _You have to ask questions, Thea. How else will you learn?_ She squashed the voice before it could drag her down. "Do you believe what they're saying?"

Before Cassandra could answer, there was a flash of green light, terrifyingly close, and the bridge beneath them gave way under a massive impact. Thea screamed as she tumbled head over heels, the sound cut off as she hit the ground with enough force to drive the air from her lungs. A few feet away, Cassandra had rolled to a stop, clutching the back of her head with one gauntleted hand. There was a sound like the ground being ripped open behind Thea and she rolled her head to see a sloth demon rise up mere feet away.

The pain in her back forgotten, Thea scrambled to her feet as the demon slithered forward. "Get behind me!" Cassandra yanked Thea backward, then drew her sword and pulled her shield from its straps on her back. Thea stumbled away, more than content to let Cassandra deal with the demon, but froze as blackness laced with glowing green energy bubbled up from the ground in front of her. Another sloth demon surged up, its terrifying visage fixed squarely on her. Cassandra clearly had her hands full with the first demon, seemingly unaware of the danger facing her prisoner. Thea whirled frantically, her breath catching when her gaze fell on a staff lying amid the rubble of the bridge. It was a simple thing, an apprentice's weapon at best: a long wooden pole with a carved stone head and a counter-weight at the end. But it _was_ a weapon.

Thea lunged for the staff, whirling it around her body as she reoriented herself to face the demon. Magic flowed through her, clean, pure; a marked contrast to the tainted energy from the Breach. She slammed the butt of the staff into the ground with a primal shout, part of her delighted to have something on which to take out her anger and fear. A circle of fire higher than she was tall rose up around her, the flames licking over her without burning her hair or clothes. The demon shrieked as the flames consumed it, writhing unnaturally before dissipating into green energy and fading entirely.

Across the frozen pond, Cassandra sank her blade into the first demon's chest, reducing it to a surge of fading green energy. Thea sighed, sagging against the staff with relief for a moment, then she stepped toward Cassandra, staff dangling limply in her right hand. "It's over."

"Drop your weapon!" Thea flinched back, both from the fury in Cassandra's voice and the sword thrust toward her. For a moment, she fully intended to comply, her fingers slackening further around the grip of the staff. But the moment passed.

Anger flared up in her, at Cassandra, at the loss of Mela'rah and her friends, at the whole situation, and her fingers curled around the staff instead of dropping it. Thea drew herself up, ignoring the warning in Cassandra's eyes. "I don't need a staff." The taller woman's eyes narrowed and her brows lowered, but Thea wasn't about to be cowed. "And I haven't used my magic on you yet. Despite numerous opportunities."

Cassandra hesitated and, despite herself, Thea felt her confidence waver. The dark-haired woman's brusque nature aside, the mage didn't want to hurt her. Abruptly, Cassandra's shoulders sagged, her sword dipping toward the ground. "You are right. You do not need a staff, but you should have one. You cannot fight unarmed and I cannot protect you, For now, we must trust each other." She slid her sword back through its strap at her waist and swung her shield over her back. Thea blinked in surprise, her staff mirroring the downward arc of Cassandra's sword. The other woman moved away, glaring over her shoulder when Thea didn't follow. "Come. We cannot afford to linger." Her face softened a little. "You especially."

Still a little thrown by Cassandra's willingness to trust her, Thea trotted after her, spinning the staff once out of habit. She wished she had a shoulder holster for the glorified stick, but she'd take what she could get. As she and Cassandra clambered up the hill, another projectile of green energy fell from the Breach a few yards away, another sloth demon and two wraiths emerging from the impact. Cassandra launched herself at the demon while Thea took on the wraiths, summoning an unnatural blizzard to freeze and shatter them. Spinning staff and body in tandem, she launched a fireball at the sloth demon, finishing it off. Cassandra motioned for her to keep moving and, gradually, the sounds of battle began to grow louder. "Hurry! We must help them!"

"Help who?!" Thea shouted back, but Cassandra didn't answer. The two crested a rise and Thea faltered for a moment. Hanging in the air above the wreckage of an outpost tower was a shimmering green tear, the Breach in miniature. Thea's stomach turned as she felt the unnatural energy filtering through the tear, but there was a disconcerting familiarity to it, a sensation she only felt when her mind slipped into the Fade.

Cassandra pulled ahead and Thea lunged after her. Beneath the rip in the air, a small skirmish was taking place, three or four sloth demons attacking mindlessly. While Cassandra slashed and hacked her way through the nearest demon, Thea called down lightning, her staff twirling from hand to hand. The sensation of the wood sliding through her fingers and over her hands, humming with the energy she channeled through it, was a welcome distraction to her grief and confusion. She could sense another mage in the fight, the clean rush of another's magic washing over the edges of her awareness. It was comforting, though she refused to let herself get distracted. She whirled once more, staff swinging around with her, as though it were an extension of her body, and prepared to immolate the last demon, but there was a sharp twang, a mechanical noise, and the demon evaporated in front of her. Startled, Thea looked for the shooter, catching a glimpse of blonde hair, flat, wide features, and a short, stocky build - a dwarf, she thought, heart rising - and then a hand seized her left wrist, yanking her around and thrusting her open palm toward the tear.

A burning sensation arced through her palm and Thea screamed - not because it hurt, but because it felt as if something was being pulled out of her. Green energy lanced from her hand to the tear and she could _feel_ it knitting, the edges closing under the surge of light. The rip seemed to shudder and then it flashed, vanishing entirely. The green energy crackling from her palm dissipated, leaving her feeling weak.

Thea yanked her wrist free and stumbled away from her accoster, nearly dropping her staff. A hand curved around her shoulder firmly and Thea glanced back to see Cassandra pushing her upright and steadying her on her feet.

"Forgive me, but time is a limited commodity at present."

Thea turned back to her assailant, careful to keep her hand out of his reach. He flashed her an apologetic smile, keeping his hands at his sides. An elf, a shade taller than her, but shorter than Cassandra, his angular face reminiscent of - Thea shut down that train of thought, focusing on the man standing in front of her. Not Dalish, judging from the lack of facial tattoos, but not a city elf, either. Bald; almond-shaped blue eyes, darker than hers, with a kindness to them. He wore thin robes and was barefoot, seeming not to mind the cold or the snow he stood in. She spotted the staff already restrapped across his pack, a caduceus of dark metal with a small oval crystal at the center of the entwined pieces; he was the other mage, then.

"What did you do?" Thea hated how small and wounded her voice sounded. She clutched her staff tightly and leaned away from Cassandra's supportive hand. Her palm still tingled, the unnatural magic lingering in her skin.

"I did nothing," the elf replied, nodding at her hand. "The credit is yours."

Thea followed his gaze to her palm. "I did that?"

"Whatever magic placed that mark on your hand is also responsible for the Breach," he said, lips turning upward in a kind smile, though there was a hint of smugness about it. "I theorized that it might be able to close the rifts left in the wake of the Breach. And it appears I was correct."

"Which means it may be able to close the Breach," Cassandra interjected.

He nodded to her and turned back to Thea. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation."

"Good to know. And here I thought we'd be up to our asses in demons forever." Thea whirled at the voice, the accent so similar and yet dissimilar to Torrin's that her chest tightened a little, regardless of the ten years between his death and her hearing of this new voice. He was taller than Torrin, indeed than most dwarves she'd seen, coming up to her shoulders. His reddish-blonde hair was neck-length, the front pulled back into a short tail, and there was a small, still-healing scar over a broken and rehealed nose. Brown eyes sparkled with mirth, though there were heavy traces of anger and regret there, too. In contrast to the elf's robes and Cassandra's armor, the dwarf wore a scarlet silk tunic, which left his chest, and a startlingly impressive amount of chest hair, open to the elements, and a heavy leather duster. Strapped across his back was an ornate and complex crossbow, the stock of which stuck up over his shoulder. he grinned at Thea and strolled forward, tugging on his gloves, the light of the Breach glinting off the hoops in his ears and the chain around his neck. "Varric Thethras. Rogue, story-teller, and, occasionally, unwelcome tagalong." He winked at Cassandra, whose mouth twisted in a grimace as she glared at him.

Thea glanced from Varric to the elf and back again, brows furrowing. From her armor and reverence when speaking of Andraste and the Divine, it was clear that Cassandra was affiliated with the Chantry, but these two... _Questions, lethallan. Don't be afraid._ "Are you with the Chantry, or..."

"Is that a serious question?" the elf asked, a chuckle in his voice.

"Technically, I'm prisoner, just like you," Varric said, still fiddling with his gloves. He shot Cassandra a surprisingly unfriendly look, which she returned with her usual glower.

"Althea Trevelyan. Thea, preferably." She turned to Cassandra. "Now what?"

"Now we go to meet Liliana."

"What a great idea," Varric said, voice oozing sarcasm.

"No, Varric," Cassandra countered, though Thea didn't know if it was out of annoyance or concern. "Your assistance has been appreciated thus far, but - "

"Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?" Thea glanced sharply at Cassandra when Varric spoke the title. A Seeker. She had only heard of them, the guard dogs for mages and Templars alike; they had failed their duty when the Circles fell and war broke out. "Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me." Varric waggled his brows, causing Cassandra to exhale with disgust and turn away.

The elf shook his head at the bickering and gave a Thea a comforting smile. "I am Solas, if there are to be introductions. I'm pleased to see you still live."

"He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept," Varric translated, smirking. The dwarf's sarcasm was comforting and Thea found herself hoping he would stick around.

She rubbed her palm with the thumb of her other hand and smiled up at Solas. "Thank you. You seem to know a lot about it."

Her curiosity seemed to please him, as he nodded. "Solas is an apostate and has a much better understanding of the Fade than most mages," Cassandra explained.

"Technically, all mages are apostates now, Cassandra," Solas corrected. He glanced at Thea's hand, brows furrowing. "You should know, the power it would take to create the Breach is massive. Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it hard to believe any mage would be able to achieve that alone."

"Cassandra nodded. "Understood." She turned away and vaulted over nearby wreckage. "We must get to the forward camp while there is still time." Solas followed her, lithely hopping over the obstruction.

Varric sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Well... Bianca's excited." As he followed the elf and the Seeker, Thea realized he was referring to the crossbow. Her palm itched and she hurried after him, swinging herself over the wreckage. Cassandra led them down an incline and out onto a frozen lake, picking her way carefully over the snowy ground.

"Demons!" Solas warned as more sloth demons and wraiths materialized ahead of them. Thea swung her staff up, taking a defensive stance as the demons approached.

"Glad you brought me now, Seeker?" Varric taunted, pulled his crossbow free and planting his feet near Thea. Bianca's wires and gears thrummed and cranked, launching bolts across the distance at incredible speed. Cassandra ignored him, barreling toward the nearest sloth demon with an angry shout. Solas' staff whirled through the air and Thea felt the gentle buzz of his magic settle over her, forming a protective barrier. She twirled and spun, flinging lightning and fireballs with every turn of her staff. Her feet slid over the ice with every movement, her motions as graceful as any dancer's.

Thea whirled to a stop as the last demon exploded into green energy and the warning tingle crawled across her hand, followed by a lance of pain. She stumbled and gritted her teeth, clutching tightly to her staff as green light crackled along the mark. The episode was mercifully brief and she sagged against the staff as it passed, her breathing heavy. Varric eyed her nervously. "You sure you're alright?"

Cassandra put a supportive hand on Thea's arm, steadying her again. "I know it's hard, but you must keep going. We are almost there." Thea nodded and pushed herself upright, gesturing for Cassandra to lead the way.

They moved up the incline, Thea glad for the support of the staff. Varric walked beside her, casting frequent sideways glances at her. "So, where are you from? Somewhere in the Free Marches?"

She glanced at him, surprised. "You've got a good ear."

"You may talk like a dwarf, but it's a Marcher dwarf." He chuckled. "I'm from Kirkwall, but you're from further east... Ostwick?"

"Lucky guess."

"Talent, Blue-Eyes." He feel silent again, his smile fading. "So... did you do it?"

Thea felt a weariness settle over her. Would no one believe she was innocent? "I don't remember."

Varric chuckled, the grin coming back. "That'll get you every time. Should've spun a story."

"That's what you would have done," Cassandra tossed back over her shoulder.

"What can I say? It's more believable. And less likely to lead to premature execution." Thea shivered and pushed herself to move faster. Death at the point of a sword seemed preferable to the expanding mark. At least an execution would be quick. Varric seemed to realize he'd upset her and he reached out to touch her arm, squeezing gently for a fleeting second.

Cassandra broke the silence, speaking more to herself than the others. "I hope Leliana made it safely." Her voice was mournful, as if she regretted sending the red-haired woman alone.

"She's resourceful, Seeker," Varric said reassuringly, and Thea gave him a side-long glance. She'd gotten the impression that he and Cassandra would be all too happy to do each other in, given the chance.

The four continued onward, coming up on the gate of another outpost, and Thea tensed as she heard the thunder-crack of another rift opening. Cassandra charged forward with a cry, Solas close behind. Thea followed, her staff already beginning to hum with energy. She twirled it once and slammed the end into the ground, a wall of fire lancing out toward the nearest demon. Spinning to the left, staff flying between her hands, she threw her arms wide, a glyph materializing in front of her. It exploded into fiery projectiles, taking out two wraiths at once. Next to her, Varric somersaulted backward, launching a bolt at the apex of his tumble. It struck a sloth demon in the neck, the creature shrieking once before returning to the Fade.

"Close the rift!" Solas shouted as the last demon fell to Cassandra's sword. Thea lifted her hand toward the rift, her entire body jerking as green energy arced from her palm. Again, there was the sensation of the edges of the tear sewing themselves up, of something being pulled from her to seal the rift. Clenching her jaw, Thea jerked her arm back, closing her hand with a snap of her wrist. The rift vanished in a flurry of green energy, the light fading from Thea's palm.

Thea dug the butt of her staff into the snow and leaned against it, her breathing labored and her knees weak. Cassandra approached her hesitantly, but Thea waved her away. She was getting tired of the Seeker's attempts to support her. She meant well, but Thea didn't want her pity or concern. She just wanted out. Cassandra nodded and turned back to the outpost. "The rift is closed! Open the gates!"

"Yes, Seeker Pentaghast!" With a creaking groan, the door swung open, revealing more soldiers and some villagers gathered inside. Thea pushed herself forward, accepting Solas' hand to help her over the threshold. Varric tapped the back of her hand lightly as he passed. "That thing comes in handy." He chuckled as he rolled her eyes.

Solas nodded. "Indeed. Well done." Thea managed a half-hearted smile at the praise and stumbled after Cassandra, the elf close to her shoulder in case she faltered.

At the far end of the outpost, Thea could make out Leliana's hooded mail and she heard Cassandra sigh with relief. The red-haired woman was arguing with a man in Chantry robes. They were too far away for Thea to make out the words, but the tone of their voices indicated displeasure from both parties. At her side, Varric rolled his eyes. "This'll be fun."

As the small group approached, Leliana turned, relief washing across her face. "There you are." She gestured toward Thea. "Chancellor Roderick, this is - "

"I know who she is," the man snarled, fixing Thea with a baleful glare. "She should be locked up until she can be questioned in Val Royeaux." He turned his glower on Cassandra. "Which should have been your job, Seeker."

Cassandra snorted derisively. "You would order me? You are a glorified cleric."

"And you are a thug," Roderick shot back, "but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!"

"Enough!" Leliana warned, clearly determined to keep what little peace there was. Thea doubted she would be successful. "Chancellor, we answer to Most Holy, as you well know."

"Justinia is dead!" Roderick thundered, thumping his fist on the makeshift desk in front of him. "We need to elect a new Divine and let her decide the matter."

"Because we have that kind of time," Varric muttered. Cassandra glared at him over her shoulder, but he only responded with an innocent grin.

The arguing was giving Thea a headache, or more of one, anyway. She straightened, bouncing her staff against the stones to draw attention. "So no one's actually in charge here?"

"You killed everyone in charge when you destroyed the temple!" Roderick snapped, jabbing a finger toward her. Thea's eyes narrowed and her fingers tightened on her staff. This was getting old very quickly.

"Shouldn't we be more worried about that -" She lifted a hand toward the Breach "- than laying blame right now?" Solas made an approving noise behind her and Varric chuckled.

Roderick drew himself up, anger flashing in his eyes, but Cassandra cut him off with a hand. "She is right. The Breach must be closed before we deal with anything else. The fastest way to the temple is through the valley with the soldiers -"

"But not the safest," Leliana objected. She motioned toward the nearest ridge. "We can take the path through the mountains."

"We lost contact with a patrol on that path," Cassandra countered. "We cannot afford the risk." When it was clear Leliana would not be easily swayed, she turned to Thea. "What do you think we should do?"

"Me?" Thea stared at Cassandra in confusion, not sure whether to be angry or incredulous. "After all this, now you want my opinion?"

"You have the mark," Solas pointed out, not exactly helpfully.

"And you are the one we must keep alive. Since we cannot agree on a course of action on our own..." Cassandra growled, glaring at Roderick.

Thea squeezed her staff tightly, leaning against the wood. She puled her left hand away and contemplated the mark on her palm. Even now there was a faint glow beneath the skin. She curled her fingers inward and clenched them into a fist before lifting her head to meet Cassandra's gaze. "The sooner we get there, the better. I don't know how much time I have; I may not survive if we take the scenic route."

"Andraste's ass, Blue-Eyes," Varric chuckled weakly, earning another sharp glare from Cassandra, though he ignored it this time. "Don't get so dark. Doesn't suit you." She glanced at him and nodded, but couldn't bring herself to return the smile.

Cassandra gestured at Leliana. "Bring everyone. We will meet you at the temple." The red-head nodded, though her face made it clear that she was less than pleased, and she left the way the little group had come. Cassandra motioned for Thea to follow and strode in the opposite direction, past Roderick without a word.

"On your head be the consequences, Seeker," the Chancellor snarled. Cassandra refused to rise to the bait, but Thea gave Roderick a narrow-eyed glare. She was determined to prove her innocence, not just to him, but to him in particular.

The four made their way through the valley between the outpost and the temple, a heavy silence hanging over them. As they neared the soldiers stationed outside the temple, a glowing green projectile hurtled earthward. The unfortunate soldier in its path barely had time to scream before the impact threw his broken body several feet away. Thea flinched back behind Cassandra, swallowing hard. To one side of the arch, somehow still standing, there was a small makeshift infirmary, wounded soldiers lying on cots in tents as Chantry sisters tended to them, trying to save them. On the other side, the sisters sill tended the soldiers, but no longer to their wounds. The covered forms created a macabre carpet over the snowy ground, dark stains soaking through the thick linens. Thea shuddered and turned away, fingers clenching on her staff. _Deep breaths, da'len._ She shoved the voice back, stuffing its melodic lilts into the darker recesses of her mind. There would be time for that later, if she survived.

Cassandra watched her warily, and Thea came back to herself, nodding once. They moved through the arch, a rift cracking into reality ahead of them. Thea snapped her staff up, planting her feet, as Cassandra rushed ahead to help the soldiers already engaging the demons. Solas and Varric took up positions behind Thea, and she felt Solas' barrier settle over her. Magic, pure, natural magic, thrummed through her, keeping the ache in her palm and in her chest at bay, and she thrust her staff high into the air with a guttural shout, summoning down lightning strikes across the battlefield. She skated across the field, fire and ice flying from both ends of her staff as it spun and twirled around her, her movements completely fluid as she tossed the staff from hand to hand. A wall of ice solidified to her left, hemming in a sloth demon so Varric could put a bolt in its face. Thunder cracked above as she froze a group of wraiths with a blizzard, so close that ice formed over her clothes, a sheen of fragile, crystalline armor. Another spin of her staff shattered them, chunks of ice peppering her hair. The ringing of swords mingled with the crack and thunder of magic, punctuated with Bianca's twang as she released another bolt. It was music and Thea's movements were a waltz, the simple staff her reliable, if inelegant, dance partner.

Demons cleared out, Thea thrust her left hand up toward the rift, this time without Solas' prompting. The rift knitted beneath the green energy from her palm and this time the feeling was less alien. It still felt like part of her was being drained away and her legs were still shaky after she snapped her wrist and closed the tear, but she knew what to expect now. She leaned against her staff, breathing through her nose. Solas moved to stand next to her, one hand outstretched; to catch her if she fell, perhaps. "You're becoming quite proficient at this."

"Let's hope it works on the big one," Varric quipped as he joined them. He gave Thea a lop-sided smile. "You put on quite a show, Blue-Eyes." Thea returned the smile tiredly and forced herself to stand straight again.

"Lady Cassandra!" The voice was deep, strained with anxiety and perhaps a little fatigue. Thea turned as Cassandra joined her, eyes lighting on a tall, armored man hurrying toward them. Her grip tensed on her staff and she fought the urge to shrink behind Cassandra. There was no question this time; this one was a Templar. He carried himself like the ones in the Ostwick Circle, even the recruits, and she could all but taste the tang of lyrium, seeped into his pores after years of use. It didn't help that he was physically imposing on top of it, half a head taller than Cassandra and broad-shouldered. Like the Seeker, his face seemed carved, all hard planes and angles, especially with his brows drawn, as they were now. His eyes were a lighter brown than Cassandra's or Varric's, amber or clover honey, and there was a scar on his upper lip. A light coat of stubble covered the lower half of his face, hiding some of the lines of his jaw. His accent marked him as Ferelden, just as the bear fur mantle around his neck did. A naked sword, more ornate and massive than Cassandra's, was strapped to his belt. The only thing about him that didn't unnerve Thea was his hair. Wheat-blonde and curly, though not to the extent that hers was, it was slicked back from his face and parted a little to the side. "You managed to close the rift."

Cassandra shook her head. "No, Commander. That is the prisoner's doing." She stepped away from Thea, who tensed as the blonde man's gaze fell on her, the intensity unsettling.

"It is?" His eyes narrowed a fraction. "I hope they're right about you. We lost a lot of people getting you here." He sounded faintly impressed, but his expression was grave.

"I'll do my best." Thea was shocked to hear how level her voice was, considering her nerves were threatening to close off her throat.

"That's all we can ask." He gestured toward the Temple of Sacred Ashes. "But you must hurry." Cassandra nodded and Thea emulated the action. "May Andraste watch over you. For all our sakes." He signaled the soldier to fall back, moving to help an injured man limp back to the arch. Thea watched them go, her breathing easier now that she could no longer sense the Templar's lyrium. Cassandra had called him "Commander;" did that make him a Knight-Commander? _Lethallan, a change in the wind would distract you._ She let out a huff and hurried after Cassandra, hopping over a small incline. She stumbled as she landed, nearly colliding with a charred skeleton.

Thea backed away slowly, pulling her staff across herself defensively. The ground in front of her was littered with burnt corpses, face, or what was left of them, turned upward, mouths open in agony, and some with their arms stretched out, as if reaching for her. She took another step back, collecting herself as her companions joined her.

"This is where you walked out of the Fade and our soldiers found you," Cassandra said, her voice soft and slightly mournful. Thea shivered and pressed forward, careful to step around the still smoldering bodies, her head tilting back. The earth had been driven upward by an impact further in, tall, unnatural structures laced with glowing green veins. Like the Breach, she felt a sense of _wrongness_ coming from the stones. Cassandra silently urged them forward, the group moving through the outer ruins

"The Temple of Sacred Ashes," Solas murmured, a slight reverence to his voice, though Thea was unsure if his hushed tone was in response to the temple itself of the destruction that had befallen it.

"What's left of it, anyway," Varric said, matching Solas' low register. For once, Cassandra didn't crane her neck and glare over her shoulder at him. The group moved past the craggy outskirts of the explosion, coming to a halt on a relatively level stone surface, the remains of a corridor or the landing of a flight of stairs. Thea tilted her head back as far as her neck would allow, mouth falling open in terror. The Breach hung directly above them, a wound in the fabric of the sky. Varric turned in a circle beside her his face upturned and expression uneasy. "The Breach is a long way up."

Thea slowly moved to the remnants of a railing, her gaze gradually falling from the Breach to a rift beneath it. It was larger than the others she'd encountered, the green glare almost menacing. Her stomach twisted painfully and she worried she would be sick for a moment.

The scuffle and thump of booted feet against stone provided a welcome distraction and Thea turned to see Leliana arriving with a dozen or so soldiers at her heels. Surprise flashed across her face, quickly followed by relief, before she smoothed her expression. "You made it. Thank the Maker." Thea was fairly certain the Maker had had nothing to do with their arrival, but she refrained from commenting.

"Leliana, get everyone into position." Cassandra turned back to Thea as the red-head began directing the soldiers. "Are you ready?"

Thea gave her a sideways look, prompting a chuckle from Varric. Cassandra scowled, but she remained silent, waiting. Thea shifted her gaze back to the Breach and swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. _Thea, you are strong and you are brave. Never doubt that, da'len._ She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed voice away again. It was becoming harder every time. Inhaling deeply, she opened her eyes and turned to Cassandra. "I'll try, but I don't know if I can reach that thing, much less close it."

"Reaching the Breach will not be necessary," Solas interjected. He gestured toward the smaller tear across the way. "This rift was the first and should be the key. If we close it, we my be able to seal the Breach."

"Let's find a way down." Cassandra led the way forward, picking out a path that led down to the rift with the least amount of rubble between. Thea stuck close to her, squeezing her staff so tightly, she feared she might leave imprints in the wood. As the group rounded another sharp crag pushed up by the explosion, a burst of red broke the green-lined darkness of the rubble, and Varric let out a hiss. Thea glanced sideways at him, the hate on his face sending a chill down her spine. "Seeker, you know that's red lyrium." His tone made it clear he wasn't asking a question.

"I see it, Varric." Cassandra's reply was short, but for once, Thea didn't think it was in response to the dwarf himself.

Varric wouldn't leave the subject alone. "But what's it doing here?"

"Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple and corrupted it," Solas suggested.

Varric made a dismissive noise. "It's evil. Whatever you do, don't touch it." As they passed by the glowing red stones, Thea realized the dwarf was right. While the Breach felt wrong because there was an unnaturalness to it, the red lyrium had a menacing feel, as if it were waiting for an unsuspecting victim to come close enough for it to pounce. She could hear the familiar lyrium "song" coming from the pile, but it was twisted and warped, even more so than regular lyrium. Thea shivered and gave the red lyrium a wider berth.

"Now is the hour of our victory."

Thea froze as the booming voice washed over her, her companions doing the same. The raspy growl seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once, and Cassandra turned in an uneasy circle, sliding her sword from its strap. "What are we hearing?"

"At a guess, the person responsible for the Breach," Solas said dryly, but Cassandra didn't react. Thea moved closer to the Seeker, nervously twirling her staff in one hand, still wishing she had a sling to put it in.

The voice continued to boom above them as they moved further down the incline. "Keep the sacrifice still." Masculine, cruel, detached. It sent a chill down Thea's spine and made her stomach clench.

"Someone! Help me!" This voice was different, a woman's. Frantic, terrified, it was almost as unsettling as the first.

"That was Divine Justinia's voice!" Cassandra's voice was strained with disbelief. She turned to stare at Thea, who met her gaze helplessly. She still couldn't remember what had happened at the Conclave. Pushing past the Seeker, she hopped down into the crater caused by the explosion, landing in a crouch. Cassandra, Solas, and Varric landed behind her as Thea took a hesitant step forward.

Energy flared from the rift, coalescing into recognizable shapes. A dark figure, lit only by red energy where eyes should have been. "Now is the hour of our victory," intoned the voice once more, clearly belonging to the silhouette. "Keep the sacrifice still."

Across from the black mass was a figure composed of red energy: a woman with long robes and a tall Chantry headpiece. "Someone! Help me!" Behind Thea, Cassandra let out a moan of despair as Justinia's voice echoed over them.

Another figure appeared, jogging forward as if slowing from a run. Thea's mouth fell open as she stared up at a massive version of herself comprised of green energy. "What's going on here?!" Her own voice rang out over the decimation, angry and confused.

The shadow's head rolled toward Thea's image and even though there were no features for her to judge, Thea could sense its irritation. Justinia's image strained toward Thea's, arms pulling against whatever had held the older woman. "Run while you can! Warn them!"

"We cannot afford distractions," the shadow said, without emotion. "Kill the mage." With that, the images faded, energy dissipating into the air.

"You _were_ there." Casandra moved to stand in front of Thea, eyes wide and gaze intense. "What happened to the Divine?!"

Again, all Thea could do was stare back helplessly. She didn't even know what had happened to her. "I don't remember."

"Right now, the Breach is our concern," Solas interjected. He stepped forward, scrutinizing the rift carefully before turning back to the Seeker. "The rift has been closed, but not sealed. So long as it remains, the Breach will stay open." He looked at Thea. "You will need to reopen the rift and seal it properly." Dark blue eyes flicked back to the Seeker. "It will likely attract attention from the other side."

"That means demons!" Cassandra shouted to the soldiers ringing the impact crater. "Take positions!" Leliana appeared at the Seeker's side, a bow in one hand and a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder. Cassandra nodded to Thea as the soldiers moved to better vantage points, with a little help from Varric. "Open the rift."

Thea swallowed hard and flexed her left hand closed and open. She wasn't even sure the mark could open rifts as well as close them, but it was clear Cassandra expected her to try. She lifted her hand toward the rift, arm shaking even before the energy burst from her palm, and she inhaled sharply as she felt the rift begin to unravel. Unlike closing them, this felt as if the mark was pulling something from the rift into her rather than the reverse. With a sharp crack, the rift burst open, sending Thea stumbling backward. Green energy flared from the rift, coalescing into the hulking mass of a pride demon.

For a long moment, no one, not even the monster, moved; the shock of its appearance had frozen time for everyone. Then the demon flexed its arms and roared, and the world lurched into motion again. Adrenaline surged through Thea's body and she skipped back, spinning her staff completely around herself before launching a ribbon of fire from the end. It struck the pride demon across the face, causing it to stumble and snarl. Cassandra shouted a battle cry and charged toward the demon, while Varric, Leliana, and her soldiers peppered it with crossbow bolts and arrows. The tingle of magic surged over her skin as Solas cast a protective barrier before spraying a stream of ice at the demon's core. The creature shrieked and roared, lashing out with blackish tendrils of energy. One flickered across Thea's barrier, sending her stumbling to one knee, while another forced Varric to scramble backward in a hasty retreat. The demon chuckled, its unnatural buzzing tones echoing across the battle.

clenching her jaw, Thea pushed herself upright and twirled her staff above her head before slamming it into the ground. Thunder cracked above the demon, a flash of lightning striking it dead center in the chest a few seconds later. It screamed, a keening, shuddering noise that set Thea's teeth on edge, and fell to its knees, giving Cassandra the opportunity to drive her sword into its neck. The demon attempted to scream again, but the sound came out as a rattling gurgle around the Seeker's blade, and it burst into a shower of green energy. Cassandra whirled to Thea, who fought the urge to lean on her staff as her knees began to shake. "Now! Seal the rift! Do it!"

Thea lifted her hand to the rift, her entire body jerking forward as green energy arced from her palm to the tear. Her arm began to shake, the tremors working back toward her chest until her entire frame vibrated in place Too much was being pulled from her too fast, and the rift still wasn't closing. Her palm began to burn and Thea tried to scream, but she couldn't tell if she was able to open her mouth, let alone produce a sound. Her heart slammed against her ribs, hard enough that she was sure it was going to burst through her chest, and her vision began to darken at the edges, the shadows moving inward. Everything was muted and all she could hear was the pounding of her pulse in her ears and the harsh rush of her breath.

Her knees gave out, body slamming into the ground, but her arm remained outstretched toward the rift. Her breathing was labored and shallow, and her vision was almost gone, but Thea gathered her remaining strength and closed her fingers, cutting off the flow of energy with a snap of her wrist. Her arm dropped into the dirt in front of her as her dimming vision went dark and everything became blessedly silent.


	2. Herald

She opened her eyes. That in itself was a surprise. She stared up at the wooden beams of a roof, her fingers curling in the fabric of the blanket beneath her. There was the sound of a door creaking shut and light footsteps, and Thea jolted upright, awareness settling in completely.

Her sudden movement startled the intruder, a young elven woman. She dropped the box she was carrying and sank to her knees, prostrating herself before Thea. "I'm sorry, my lady! Please forgive me for disturbing you!"

"What? No, it's fine -" Thea began, bemused by the woman's reaction, unsure if it was a result of fear or reverence. Perhaps a mixture of both?

The woman continued to bow at the foot of the bed, doing her best not to meet Thea's gaze. Still confused by her reactions, Thea let the elf ramble as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. "You are back in Haven, my lady. They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing, as did the mark on your hand."

Thea lifted her palm, the spiral mark still seared into the skin. There was still a faint glow of energy beneath the skin, the edges crackling a bit, but it no longer hurt. The elven woman was still talking, though Thea was only half-paying attention. "It's all anyone's been talking about for the last three days."

 _Three days?!_ Thea jerked her head up, the elf's words drawing her attention back to the present. She'd been asleep for three days?! And people were saying she'd saved Haven by containing, if not closing, the Breach? She looked back to the kneeling woman. "So... they're happy with me?"

"I don't know anything about that." The elf pushed herself to her feet, clearly eager to escape Thea's presence. "Lady Cassandra will want to know you've awakened. She said, 'At once.'"

Thea frowned. She didn't relish seeing Cassandra's reaction to her failure to close the Breach. "Where is she?"

"In the Chantry, with the Lord Chancellor." The woman backed toward the door, wringing her hands anxiously. "'At once,' she said." Without another word, she fled, leaving Thea to stare at the closing door with a mounting sense of confusion and worry.

She rubbed the mark with her right hand, nails scratching over the lines lightly. There were no raised edges or indentations; the mark was almost like a tattoo. She curled her fingers inward and pressed her closed hand against her stomach, her chest constricting painfully. After everything, she was still alive, safe even, and her friends were dead. Mela'rah was dead. Her breath hitched and she squeezed her eyes closed to keep the tears at bay. She would have time to mourn when she knew what fate awaited her.

Taking a deep breath through her nose, Thea pushed herself to her feet, wobbling slightly as her legs adjusted to her weight. Slowly, she stumbled to the cabin's door, feeling more like a spring colt than a grown woman. Laying fingers on the handle, she took another breath to steady herself and pushed the door open, squinting in the light from both the sun and the Breach.

The rattle of armor startled her for a moment, but after her vision adjusted, she realized the soldiers were saluting her, not coming after her. Thea blinked, startled by their reaction, and she realized there were far more saluting figures than she thought, fists pressed over hearts. They stretched out from the cabin, lining both sides of the path before her. Thea stared at them dumbly, waiting for the other boot to drop. Three days ago, these same people had regarded her as a murderer, a terrorist. Now they were making no effort to hide the awe and reverence in their expressions.

One of the nearest soldiers, a dark-eyed woman a few years younger than Thea, cleared her throat softly, lips curling in a small smile when Thea turned to her with a startled jerk, and inclined her head toward a large building to the northeast: Haven's Chantry. Thea let out a quavering breath, nodded, and forced her legs to move forward. She stuck to the middle of the path, avoiding the gazes of the assembled soldiers and civilians, but short of jamming her fingers in her ears and humming, she couldn't block out the hushed murmurs.

"That's her... She stopped the Breach from getting any bigger..."

"The Maker must have sent her.. we are blessed..."

It was all Thea could do not to bolt the last few yards to the Chantry doors. Once she was inside, she turned and leaned against the massive planks of wood, closing them on the wide-eyed stares and whispered praise. She pressed her forehead against the door and sighed shakily. _The Dread Wolf comes for those who tarry, lethallan. Lingering is unwise._

Thea unconsciously lifted a hand to her chest, fingers curling into the fabric over the hurt. "Still with me, I see," she murmured, unsure if she was talking to the memory or herself. When Mela'rah's voice didn't answer, she let her arm fall and pushed away from the door, looking to the closed door at the opposite end of the deserted Chantry as she registered raised voices.

"Have you gone mad, Seeker?!" Roderick, furious, tone strained with emotion. "She should be chained and taken to Val Royeaux to await execution!" One side of Thea's upper lip curled in a silent snarl. At least there was no chance the chancellor would be in a position to decide her fate.

Cassandra's Nevarran accent clipped her words, but not the anger and loathing in her tone. "I do not believe she is guilty." Thea was startled by the certainty in the other woman's voice, but it gave her the courage to move forward, boots scuffing softly against the stone floor.

"The prisoner failed," he retorted. "The Breach is still in the sky. For all we know, she intended it that way."

Anger surged up in Thea's chest and if the memory of Mela'rah's voice warned her to be cautious, she paid it no mind and slammed the door open, startling the guards on either side of it. Across the room, Cassandra and Leliana stood behind a large table with a map of Southern Thedas spread over it, while Roderick glared at the Seeker from the side.

The chancellor's reaction to Thea's appearance was immediate. "Chain her! I want her taken to Val Royeaux for trial."

"Disregard that," Cassandra snapped, her voice level, but still angry, "and leave us." The guards exited without hesitation, clearly fearing her ire more than Roderick's.

The man himself rounded on Cassandra with new fury as Thea approached the table. "You walk a dangerous line, Seeker."

Cassandra stepped toward him, her movements and body language laced with exasperation and intimidation. Though she knew better than to voice it, Thea felt no small amount of satisfaction to see the Seeker's dogged will being turned on the chancellor. "The Breach is stable, but still a threat. I will not ignore that."

"Still a suspect, am I?" Thea winced a little when Roderick and Cassandra turned to stare at her. She half-expected Mela'rah's familiar elbow in the ribs and her chest constricted a little when it didn't come.

"You most certainly are," Roderick snarled, at the same time Cassandra shook her head. "No, she is not." They resumed their glaring match with renewed intensity.

"Someone was behind the explosion." Leliana broke her silence for the first time and Thea jumped a little . She had nearly forgotten the red-head was in the room. Leliana moved to Cassandra's side, the look on her face indicating she was long past done with the bickering. "Someone Justinia did not expect. Perhaps they died with rest -" She fixed the chancellor with a narrow-eyed glare "- or have allies who yet live."

Shock filtered into Roderick's angry expression. "Are you saying _I'm_ a suspect?!"

"You, and many others."

"But _not_ her."

"I was there, I heard the voices in the Temple," Cassandra interjected. "The Divine called out to her for help." She glanced at Thea, a look of hope, gratitude, and awe, and the mage swallowed. She wasn't sure if Cassandra's sudden belief in her was any less intimidating than her anger.

"So her survival, the mark on her hand - all coincidence?" Roderick asked, sneering at the idea.

"Providence. The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour." Cassandra's voice was firm, devoid of any doubts.

Her confidence only filled with Thea with more unease, especially her surety that the Maker had influenced the mage's survival. "Wait. You believed I was a criminal; now you think the Maker sent a _mage_ as his 'chosen one?'"

"I was wrong before," Cassandra admitted, and Thea was impressed at how easily the admission came. "Perhaps I still am. But I will not pretend you were not what we needed when we needed it."

"The mark is still our only hope of closing the Breach," added Leliana."

"That is not for you to decide," Roderick snapped, but Cassandra slammed a heavy book onto the surface of the table, cutting off his tirade before it began. The tome was massive, reminding Thea of some of the larger history books in the Ostwick Circle's library, and bound in dark leather, the sunburst symbol of the Chantry, with an eye in the center, fixed on the front.

Cassandra tapped the book with a gloved finger. "A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act." Her tone was triumphant, as if her argument with the chancellor had been some great battle. "From this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn." She advanced on Roderick as he backed away, jabbing a finger toward him to punctuate her points. "We will seal the Breach, find those responsible, and restore order. With or without your approval."

Roderick scowled at the three of them wordlessly, lingering the longest on Thea. She glared back, the stand-off reminding her of the confrontations she'd had in the Circle as a child, just before someone (usually her) escalated things to physical violence. After a long moment, the chancellor turned away and left, recognizing his defeat, but his expression made it clear that the issue was far from over.

With his exit, some of the tension in the room followed him out, and Thea let out a loaded sigh, her shoulders slumping to a more natural position. Leliana moved around the table to the book, fingers brushing the binding. "The Divine's directive is to rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos." Her face fell, weariness creeping into her expression. "It won't be easy. We have no leader, no army, and now no Chantry support."

"And no choice," Cassandra pointed out. She turned to Thea, gaze intense and determined. "We must act now, with you at our side."

Thea ran a hand through her short curls. "I've read about the Inquisition. They became the Templars. Not exactly something I want to aspire to."

"The Templars have lost their way," Cassandra agreed. "We need those who will do what must be done united under one banner"

"And the Chantry?" Thea nodded at the writ's cover. "Aren't you still part of that?"

"The Chantry will take time to find a new Divine, and then they will wait for her decision," Leliana supplied, the shake of her head speaking volumes about her feelings toward that process.

"We cannot wait," Cassandra said firmly. "We are on our own, perhaps forever." Thea could hear the sadness in the Seeker's voice and she couldn't help feeling a sense of kinship with the woman. The Conclave's destruction had taken both of their families.

Thea looked down at the mark on her hand as she mulled over her options, more to avoid the other women's eyes than to examine the brand again. They were asking much of her, more than she wanted to give, but what choice did she have? She could leave; Cassandra had made it clear she was no longer a prisoner, so it was unlikely that anyone would stop her. But where would she go? Back to Ostwick, where there was no longer any safe haven, no tower walls to keep the outside world where it belonged? To her parents, who had sent her away, complete strangers after twenty-two years? To Gavren, a brother she had never met and only exchanged a handful of letters with?

No; as much as this "Inquisition" needed her, or at least her mark, she needed them. Here, she would be safe. Here, she would be useful. Here, she might not be a burden. Thea lifted her head, meeting Cassandra's gaze, one side of her mouth twitching upward. "When I woke up, I didn't picture this outcome."

"Neither did we," Leliana admitted, lips curving up in a small, amused smile.

Cassandra held out a hand, holding Thea's gaze with her own. "Help us fix this, before it's too late." Thea hesitated, knowing she would never be able to go back from this, but she put her hand in Cassandra's and shook it once, trying to ignore the feeling of finality that settled over her.

The next few hours were a blur for Thea. Leliana assigned two soldiers to her, instructing them to see her fed and outfitted with armor and a better staff. They escorted her down to Haven's tavern, where the bubbly barmaid - _Flissa_ , Thea thought, determined to remember it after the woman's crestfallen expression when she had to repeat her name - provided her with a bowl of stew and some bread. It was hardly the same caliber as meals served in the Circle, but it was warm and Thea was ravenous. Flissa insisted she finish another bowl before allowing Leliana's soldiers to walk her down to the smithy. The blacksmith, Harritt, was a gruff, but clearly competent man, and he actually managed to scrounge up leathers that fit her, assuring her he would have something better crafted shortly. He took the order for a new staff, promising to have it delivered as soon as it was finished. The soldiers escorted her back to her cabin, allowing her privacy to change into the new clothing. Soon after, Cassandra summoned her back to the Chantry, and Thea began to long for the quiet of the Circle tower.

As she walked alongside the Seeker, Thea noticed the woman's sideways glances at her left hand. She wiggled her fingers and Cassandra looked up at her with what Thea assumed to be sheepishness, or the closest the Seeker could get to it. "Does it trouble you?

Thea flexed her hand open and closed, watching the natural lines of her palm bend the mark. "It doesn't hurt, if that's what you mean. I just wish I knew what it was. Or how it got there."

"We will find out," Cassandra said reassuringly. "What's important is that it is now stable, as is the Breach." She smiled and Thea was startled to see that it didn't seem as out of place on the Seeker's face as she would have expected. "You've bought us time, and Solas believes a second attempt will succeed - provided your mark has more power." The smile vanished as her expression became more serious. "The same level of power used to open the Breach. That will not be easy to come by."

"By all means, let's power up something we barely understand," Thea deadpanned, and then immediately froze. Her previous attempts at humor had been less than warmly received by the other woman, and she braced herself for Cassandra's disapproval.

To her surprise, the Seeker chuckled, one side of her mouth twisting up in a smirk. "Hold on to that sense of humor." She moved ahead, motioning for Thea to follow. Pleased she had amused the taciturn warrior, Thea hurried to catch up with Cassandra as they entered the room at the back of the Chantry.

Leliana was still at the left side of the long table and Thea wondered if she'd even left after sending the mage out earlier. She smiled at Thea and it seemed warmer than before, and Thea smiled shyly, feeling a bit self-conscious. As she entered the room fully, the sharp tang of lyrium hit her, twisting her stomach a little, and she glanced away from Leliana to see the blonde man from the temple ruins standing directly across from her on the other side of the table. Without the adrenaline of battle and the fear of death hanging over her, he didn't seem as large or imposing as Thea remembered, though he was still both of those things. His posture was relaxed, weight shifted to one side and hands braced on the pommel of his sword. He, too, smiled as Thea's eyes met his and she was surprised and a little pleased to see it was genuinely friendly, though she thought the scar turned it into a roguish smirk. As if he could sense her thoughts, the right side of his mouth lifted a bit more, and Thea quickly shifted her gaze to the woman on his right.

Smaller than Thea, Leliana, and Cassandra, she was Antivan, judging by her dark hair and deep tan skin. Thea recognized the markings of nobility, both in her appearance and carriage. She wore an ornate gown of gold and blue, the sleeves runched and carriage ruffled, and she braced a writing board with candle and parchment against her hip with one hand, a quill clutched in the other. Her dark brown eyes were warm and inviting, and Thea felt her nerves settle a bit at the geniality she saw in them.

Cassandra gestured toward the blonde man and Thea returned her gaze to him, eyes flicking back to the scar quickly before rising to meet his. _Stop it_ , she chided herself. Mela'rah had once told her she could always tell when Thea was curious about something, even before Thea herself knew, because her eyes could never pass over it. Thea gave herself a mental shake and focused on Cassandra's voice. "You've met Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition's forces."

He inclined his head, smile-smirk still in place. "It was only for a moment on the field. I'm pleased you survived."

Cassandra moved on. "Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat."

The Antivan woman flashed a brilliant smile, as warm as her eyes, and bent her knees in an abbreviated curtsy. "I've heard much. It's a pleasure to meet you at last."

"And of course you know Sister Leliana."

"My position here involves a degree of -" Leliana began.

"She is our spymaster," Cassandra interrupted brusquely.

Leliana's lips twisted in a little grimace of annoyance. "Yes. Tactfully put, Cassandra." Thea lifted a hand to hide her smile at the exchange and caught Cullen mirroring her, gloved hand rising to cover his mouth. There was amusement in his amber eyes, as well as a weariness he did not seem old enough to have earned. Again, Thea's eyes dipped to the scar over his mouth before she glanced away and lowered her hand.

"This is a room full of impressive titles, isn't it?" she quipped when she realized they were waiting for her to speak. This time Cassandra did regard her with a look of disapproval, but the others seemed to find it amusing. "May I ask why I'm included?"

"We must discuss a course of action," Josephine supplied. "Much concerns you. The Chantry had denounced the Inquisition - and you, specifically."

Thea shrugged. "Well, that didn't take long."

"Shouldn't they be busy arguing over who's going to become Divine?" Cullen asked, tone derisive. Thea glanced sideways at him, brows furrowing. She'd never heard a Templar speak so flippantly of the Chantry.

Josephine ignored Cullen's jibe. "Some are calling you - a mage - the 'Herald of Andraste.' That frightens the Chantry." Thea frowned as she continued. "The clerics have declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harboring you."

"Chancellor Roderick's doing, no doubt," Cassandra grumbled.

"I don't understand," Thea said, feeling panic begin to rise in her chest again. "How am _I_ the 'Herald of Andraste?'"

"People saw what you did at the temple, how you stopped the Breach from growing." Cassandra's words were slow, as if explaining to a child. "They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift. The believe that was Andraste."

Leliana offered further explanation. "Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading -"

"Which we have not."

The red-head shot Cassandra another glare for the interruption. "The point is, everyone is talking about you."

"It's quite the impressive title, isn't it?" Cullen's smirk told her he was aware of the joke he was making by throwing her on words back at her. "How do you feel about that?"

"It's a little unsettling," Thea answered honestly. Well, mostly honestly. Truthfully, the idea terrified her. She was a screw-up, sarcastic Free Marcher mage who happened to have a talent for fireballs and hitting things with a staff, not a religious icon.

"I'm sure the Chantry would agree," Cullen snarked, but he seemed to realize she was no longer in a joking mood.

The rest of the meeting dissolved into "discussion" (Thea would have called it bickering) between the four of them, the only details relevant to Thea being that neither the mages or the Templars would ally with the Inquisition at present, there was a Chantry cleric in the Hinterlands who was interested in meeting the 'Herald of Andraste', and Cullen, despite the lyrium still hanging about him, was no longer a member of the Templar order. It explained his derision toward the Chantry and his ease with her presence.

After Thea's lean against the table turned into more of a sit as time passed, Cassandra finally noticed her exhaustion and called an end to the meeting, agreeing to reconvene in the morning. When Thea pushed through the Chantry doors, she found day had turned to night while the five of them (well, four, if she were being honest; she had been little more than an observer) had deliberated, and despite sleeping for the last three days, she was more tired than she had ever been. She stumbled back to her cabin, ignoring the stares and whispers from those still milling about Haven's pathways. Once inside, she stripped out of the leathers, keeping her tunic and exchanging her pants for a pair of ramskin breeches she found folded on the end of the bed, and crawled under the covers, blowing out the candle on the bedside table.

She stared up at the ceiling in the darkness, drained from the events of the day and, presumably, the after-effects of her fevered three-day sleep, and listened to the quiet, occasionally broken by the clink of armor or the murmur of voices from the evening patrols. It was a different quiet from the Circle's, where she had always been able to hear the soft breathing of the other mages in the dormitory, the rattling armor and thudding footsteps of the Templars on their rounds, the whispers and giggles of those still awake past curfew. Thea swallowed and pressed her face into the pillow. Even surrounded by the entirety of the village, she felt lonelier than she had in years, since she had arrived at the Circle and stumbled under the wing of a sunny-smiled elf.

Unbidden, Mela'rah's voice echoed through her mind, repeating the assurances so often given to the child who feared her newest family abandoning her, as her first one had. _Da'len, don't worry. I will never leave you._ And in the darkness, with no one to witness, the tears finally came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on, most of the chapters will be comprised of the moments between larger plot points in the game, but there will still be some game plot chapters, just a head's up. Comments/suggestions are greatly appreciated!


	3. Reassurance

"I just think this requires a light touch," Leliana said, one hand resting on the map marker. "Impersonating a member of the Chantry is a grave offense, even now."

Cullen shook his head. "A dagger between the ribs is not a 'light touch,'" he retorted, ignoring her narrowed eyes. "We should publicly expose her, put an end to this quickly."

"She managed to fool the rest of the clerics; making a spectacle would just weaken the Chantry in the eyes of the Orlesians," Josephine interjected. After everything that's happened -"

Thea leaned against the war table, palms braced on the wood at the edge of the map, and stared down at the little iron markers, her advisors' bickering fading into white noise as her mind drifted. It had been little more than three weeks since her christening as the Herald of Andraste and her induction into the Inquisition, but it felt like so much longer. Almost from the moment she had regained consciousness after the failed attempt to close the Breach, she had been bombard with letters demanding to know her intentions, pleading for her help, or denouncing her as a heretic. Even her family had crawled out of the woodwork; the more opportunistic members, anyway. Well, Gavren had sent a short missive expressing his relief at her survival, and that had buoyed her for a time. But there had been nothing from the former Ostwick Circle mages; no letters of relief for her survival, of shock at her being named Herald, of condolences for her friends who had died... for Mela'rah...

"Herald?"

Cullen's voice cut through her thoughts and Thea jerked her head up to see all three advisors staring at her. Half a beat later, she felt the wetness on her cheeks and lifted a hand to touch her face. Her eyes widened as she caught a still-falling tear and she glanced back up at her advisors, panic flaring in her chest. Leliana was watching her with something akin to sympathy in her eyes, though she was careful to keep her expression blank. Josephine's brows were drawn in concern and she had lain her writing board and quill down on the war table. Cullen just looked terrified.

Josephine took a step forward, one hand outstretched. "Herald -"

The gesture was like a lit match, igniting the grief and embarrassment, and a sob expanded in Thea's chest as more tears spilled over her cheeks. She tried to speak, but her first attempt came out as a strangled choke, and when the words finally came, her voice was small and wavery. "I'm sorry, I just -" Her voice cracked on the last word and she gave up on controlling it. "I'm sorry!"

She bolted, letting the war room door fall shut on Josephine's voice calling after her. Thea burst through the Chantry doors out into the courtyard, drawing the startled attention of members of the Inquisition and refugees alike. The chill air seared her throat as she gulped it down, vision still blurry, and she fled past the requisition table, past Varric's hidey-hole near the fire pit, past Seggrit's stall of dubious ethicality, and through the outer gate. She hesitated for a moment, chest heaving, hot tears still burning down her face; just long enough for Cassandra to notice her appearance and pause in her destruction of yet another practice dummy. She lowered her sword and her brows, and Thea ran before the warrior could call out to her. Up the hill into the forest, past Taigen's abandoned cabin, Thea let her legs carry her, her vision blinded by tears, until she stumbled on something (rock, tree root, her own feet; she couldn't see and it didn't matter), knees slamming into surprisingly snow-free ground. She hissed through her teeth as the rocks dug into her skin, sure to leave abrasions and bruises.

 _Scraped knees again, Thea?_ The lilting voice slid out from the back of her mind, bringing with it a fresh wave of tears. _You don't have to hide it, lethallan. Tears are not a sign of weakness._

"Shut up!" Thea screamed, her fingers digging into the dirt with the force of her cry. The noise startled the nearby wild druffalo and they bellowed and grunted anxiously as they moved away. Thea took no notice, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. "Just go away... you're dead -" Her voice broke, breath hitching in her throat. "Please... leave me..."

She had no idea how much time passed, kneeling there in the dirt, before she heard the footsteps. She had cried herself out, leaving her drained and foggy, but had managed to straighten herself somewhat, sitting back on her heels and folding her hands in her lap. She didn't turn as the steps drew closer, but from the lack of clink and rattle of armor, it wasn't Cassandra or Cullen approaching. An absence of swishing fabric ruled out Vivienne or Leliana as well, and the steps were too heavy to belong to either of the Inquisition's elves.

"Sometimes you're harder to find than clean smallclothes, Waltz." Thea closed her eyes, shoulders slumping a bit further. She hadn't wanted to be found, but part of her was glad that Varric had been the one to discover her instead of someone else. After fighting alongside her through the Hinterlands, he'd taken to calling her "Waltz" in response to the fluidity she displayed in battle. "Probably shouldn't make a habit of it. Ruffles has enough to worry about."

"Did she send you?" Even to her ears, Thea's voice sounded raw and rusty from crying.

"I'm not really the errand boy type," he said, a chuckle in his words. His boots cracked against the rocks as he came to a stop just behind her. "You turned quite a few heads back there." Thea swallowed, embarrassment burning her cheeks. What a wonderful impression for the Herald of Andraste to make, crying and screaming in front of the people who put their faith in her. Varric's boots scuffed against the ground as he shifted his weight behind her. "Want to talk about it? I've been told I'm a fairly good listener."

Thea gave the offer a moment's consideration before shaking her head, a tendril of shame curling around the embarrassment in her chest. Varric was the closest thing she had to a real friend in the Inquisition, but she still couldn't bring herself to talk about Mela'rah, about the voice echoing in her head, keeping her friend alive and Thea in near constant grief.

"It's alright, Waltz." His voice was gentle, understanding, and if Thea had had any tears left in her, it would have sent her into another round of sobs. There was more shuffling of boots over ground, and then Varric's back was against hers, his weight rocking Thea forward before she caught herself. "Mind if I do some talking then? I've been told I have some talent with that, too."

The corner of Thea's mouth twitched upward despite herself and she nodded "Alright."

"You've read my _Tale of the Champion_ , right?" Thea murmured her assent, leaning back slightly so that Varric was supporting more of her weight than she was of his. The dwarf was short, but he was dense. "Sometimes I wonder if I made Hawke too heroic when I wrote that. I left out some of the better stories because they didn't fit the 'Champion' figure people expected." He chuckled and it vibrated against Thea's back. "And some of them she wouldn't let me put in."

"Such as?" Thea asked, unable to suppress her natural curiosity.

"There was one time Hawke was on a merchant guild hit list," Varric began, the words rumbling through his chest to her back. "Hawke's uncle got into an investment scheme with a couple of merchant caste businessmen. They took a lot of people's coin in order to arrange the import of Wandering Hills from the Anderfels. A delicacy, I'm told." His snort made his feelings on the idea clear and Thea's mouth twitched upward again. "Their weird, foreign foodstuffs arrived - alive - and one of them, true to its name, wandered off in the middle of the night. The guild traced the shipment to Hawke's uncle, but as usual, he was so far in debt he couldn't see the daylight. So they went after Hawke instead." The humor had faded from his voice a bit, replaced by an old sadness that Thea suspected would never fade entirely. She wondered just how much Hawke's family had become Varric's as well in the years he and the Champion had spent together.

After a pause, Varric picked up the story, amusement slowly returning to his tone. "They sent guys from the local carta to Hawke's estate one night. Five big dusters, armed to the teeth. They kick in the door, and Hawke yells, 'You're just in time!' and drags them over to a game of Wicked Grace. They played two hands of cards before the city guard show up to take them away." He laughed again. "A couple of them became regulars at our weekly game."

The image pulled a laugh out of Thea, and the tangle of grief and shame in her chest loosened a little. She tilted her head back a bit, resting it on Varric's shoulder. "She sounds like a remarkable woman, Varric. Not in the way your book makes her out to be, but remarkable all the same."

"My book is about the Champion; that story was abut my friend." Thea rolled her head, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Hawke wasn't always rushing in, daggers drawn, to save the day; sometimes she did it by making people laugh, by making them want to spend time with her. She laughed, she loved, she grieved, and she got angry. What I'm trying to say is that she's more than just the Champion. Just like you're more than just the Herald of Andraste."

Thea mulled his words over, mouth working silently, unsure if she wanted to laugh or start crying again. Eventually, her lips settled into a small smile and she nodded, knowing Varric would feel it against his shoulder blades. "Thank you."

"Anytime, Waltz." Varric groaned as he pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his breeches. "I'm getting too old for this." Thea giggled as he moved to stand in front of her and held out a hand. "Ready to go back?"

One side of Thea's mouth drew up in a lop-sided smile. "Yeah." She put her hand in Varric's and let him pull her to her feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Using Varric's Hawke story here is probably a little bit of a spoiler for my Hawke's fate at Adamant, but I like the story and I wanted to keep it in somewhere. Also, I've had to change the rating and some of the tags, as a few later chapters have, shall we say, gotten away from me *eyebrow waggle* As always, comments/suggestions are appreciated!


	4. Trust

Anger flared up in Thea's chest, hotter than the little flush of delight she'd felt at Dorian's decision to stay with the Inquisition. The mage himself leaned against one of the Chantry's support beams, dark eyes flicking between Thea and Cullen. "You left the decision up to me, Commander." The last word left her mouth in a snarl, more like a curse than a title.

"Yes, but I didn't expect -" Cullen caught himself, but Thea could see the unspoken words in his eyes. The heat in her chest burned hotter, along with a feeling she couldn't quite place. Disappointment? Regret? She ignored it, choosing instead to focus on the anger, and finished Cullen's sentence. "Didn't expect me to choose wrongly."

To his credit, Cullen had the decency to look chagrined, but it did nothing to placate Thea's anger. She glared at him, fists balled tightly at her sides, but she didn't reach for her staff or her magic. She was no longer Mela'rah's gangly little shadow, who hit first and asked forgiveness later. Now she settled for digging her fingernails into her palms and letting the words slide through clenched teeth. "I made the choice to recruit the mages and I will accept the consequences."

"You will not be the only one to suffer them." Ignoring her outrage, Cullen turned to Cassandra. "Seeker, you were there! Why didn't you intervene?"

"While I do not entirely approve of the Herald's methods, I cannot deny the end result." Thea felt a rush of gratitude for the warrior as she lifted her chin, voice firm. "Our goal was an alliance with the mages and in that, the Herald was successful."

"There will be abominations." Dorian's mouth began to resemble Thea's, pressing into a thin line of disapproval, and he straightened away from the column. His slender figure was hardly as imposing as Cullen's armored bulk, but his anger was palpable, fueling Thea's own displeasure. Clearly aware of the mages' ire, but just as clearly unwilling to acknowledge it, Cullen ran a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh." We have few Templars as it is; we won't be able to keep an eye on them."

"Well, with such rousing confidence, Commander, I can't say I blame Fiona for being cautious," Dorian snarked, ignoring the sharp looks Cassandra and Leliana gave him. "Perhaps if you gave them a chance -"

"Then the Inquisition could fall here," Cullen retorted.

The Tevinter snorted. "Do you honestly believe that?"

I was in Kirkwall during the rebellion."

"Well, unless any of Fiona's lot plan on blowing up this Chantry -"

"Enough." Leliana's melodic tone held a dangerous edge and Dorian wisely deferred to her. She turned back to Cullen, her expression brooking no nonsense. "As Cassandra said, our goal was to foster an alliance between the Inquisition and the rebel mages, and the Herald has unquestionably done that. Our concern now is whether they will provide enough power to close the Breach."

"Because throwing more magic at something already brimming with it is a reasonable course of action," Cullen grumbled, gauntlets clacking against his breastplate as he crossed his arms.

It was too much for Thea. She had been to the Void and back - very nearly literally - to gain the assistance of the Redcliffe mages, thrown through time and forced to watch her friends sacrifice themselves to buy her and Dorian time to return to the present. The image of Cassandra and Varric's broken and lifeless bodies floated behind her lids every time she closed her eyes, and she had barely been able to meet either's gaze on the way back from Redcliffe. Cassandra had taken little notice, so intent on returning to Haven as she was, but Varric had been noticeably confused by Thea's sudden avoidance, and that had made Thea feel even worse. She drew herself up, eyes fixed unblinkingly on Cullen, the tension between them almost tangible, and when she spoke, her voice almost crackled with barely contained rage. "If you find me so incompetent, Commander, perhaps you should find another Herald to do your dirty work!" By the time she was finished, she was shouting, and she turned on her heel and stormed out of the Chantry before any of them could stop her.

She had almost made it to the outer gate before Cullen caught up to her, the clatter of his armor announcing his presence before he called out to her. "Herald -"

Without looking back, Thea stopped and snapped a hand out behind her, a wall of fire blazing into existence between the two of them. She heard him inhale sharply, but there was no hiss of steel against leather, so presumably he hadn't drawn his sword. Strangely, it wasn't particularly comforting to Thea; in fact, she felt strangely guilty for expecting him to pull his weapon on her. However, her anger remained firmly in control and she snarled back at him over her shoulder. "Don't follow me."

She left him behind, striding through the gate and out onto the frozen lake, summoning a small blizzard to hide her progress from any watching eyes in Haven. Once she reached the other side of the lake, she circled back and made her way up the beaten path to Taigen's abandoned cabin and slipped inside. Since the former apothecary's death at the Conclave, the inhabitants of Haven avoided the little cabin on the outskirts of the village and Thea had found herself using it more and more over the last few months as a place to hide when she needed a moment alone.

Pushing the door shut behind her, Thea sagged against it, her anger gradually fading to be replaced with shame and embarrassment. She'd acted like a child, making a scene when her choices were criticized, and when Cullen had followed, likely to apologize, she'd - A thrill of fear shot through her. She'd essentially attacked the commander of the Inquisition, a former Templar. Would he ever trust her again? And would there be a punishment for her actions? The tendril began to expand into full-on terror. In the Circle, her actions would have earned her the Rite of Tranquility. Would Cullen or one of the other advisors order the Inquisition's Templars to Tranquil her? Would her mark still work if she were Tranquil?

 _Dwelling on what-ifs does no one any good, lethallan._ She pressed her palms into her eyes, as if she could force Mela'rah's voice back into the darker recesses of her mind. She couldn't even summon the will to cry the tears burning at the corners of her eyes. Pushing off the door, Thea staggered across the room to the desk and sank into the chair. Sheets of paper littered the surface of the desk and a quill and inkpot were tucked into the corner, remnants of Taigen's notes before his demise. Thea reached out and lifted the quill, dipping into the ink and coming back to rest the tip on the unblemished parchment, and then she began to write.

_Mela... Maker, I miss you. What else am I supposed to say? You've left me and I'm lost without you. There's no one to tell me I'm being an ass, to stop me from stepping over the line. They're calling me the Herald of Andante now, do you know? I'm supposed to fix the hole in the sky, the one that... that took you away from me._

_Maker's Breath, Mela, I'm terrified. So much is riding on my success and I can't even behave like an adult in front of those who depend on me. I almost attacked ~~a Tem~~ an ex-Templar, commander of our forces, and I'm afraid to find out what happens next. Part of me almost wishes they would make me Tranquil. Then it might stop hurting every time I think of you... then I might stop hearing your voice..._

Thea let the quill fall from her fingers and she drew her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her shins and pressing her face into her knees. She felt broken and wrong out all at the same time; needing to cry, but unable to let the tears fall. She stayed folded up in the chair for some time, eventually falling into a light doze, before a subtle tingle of lyrium, accompanied by the light rattle of armor, roused her, The cabin door swung open and Thea tensed, doing her best to shrink further into herself.

"Herald?" Cullen's voice was soft, gentle, as if he were approaching a spooked animal. When she didn't respond, he slowly moved further into the cabin, letting the door fall closed behind him. He approached her hesitantly, afraid of her either lashing out or running away, Thea wasn't entirely sure. He came to stand next to her, putting her face roughly level with the bottom of his breastplate. Close enough for her to smell leather and armor polish. "Herald."

Begrudgingly, Thea dragged her gaze up to his face and felt a small jolt of surprise at the concern she saw there. She'd nearly set the man on fire and he was worried about her? It was almost enough to make her smile. _Impossible man_.

Whatever expression she was making appeared to further worry Cullen and he knelt next to her, the ease with which he moved surprising her. His eyes were level with hers now, forcing her to meet them. "Are you alright?"

The sincerity of the question pulled a chuckle from her. There was a massive hole in the sky and the only way to close it was through a crackling scar on her hand. She doubted she would ever be alright again. Cullen frowned and she shook her head, cheek brushing the tops of her knees. "I'm sorry."

He sighed. "As am I, Herald." His eyes drifted over her hastily scribbled note, lingering on Mela'rah's name before dropping to the last few lines. Thea watched his face closely, gauging his expression. Cullen's gaze returned to hers, confusion and shock in their warm amber depths. "Do you really believe we would make you Tranquil? What could you possibly have done to make you think the Inquisition would consider that?"

Thea cringed from the sincerity in his voice, suddenly feeling guilty. "But I almost -"

"I think I have enough experience to tell the difference between an actual attack and a warning shot," he said wryly and Thea found herself smiling at his dry tone. "The Inquisition is not the Circle and I am, as you say, an 'ex-Templar.'" His voice grew soft, a note of hurt filtering in. "You have nothing to fear, Lady Trevelyan, least of all from me."

The rebuke was gentle, but it still stung and Thea's cheeks burned slightly with embarrassment. She sighed and glanced up at him. "Some fears are dug in deeper than I'd like, it seems. Forgive me."

Cullen smiled and the genuine warmth in it sent a pleasant tingle through her, as did the way the lop-sided grin tugged at the scar on his lip. "There is nothing to forgive." He glanced away, smile faltering. "About the mages -" He hesitated, as if expecting her to bristle, but Thea had neither the energy nor the urge to continue their squabble. When it was clear she didn't plan on attacking, Cullen's eyes found hers again. "My reservations aside, I will not jeopardize your alliance with the mages. You have hopefully secured the power necessary to close the Breach, and that is all that matters."

Gratitude and affection for him rose up in Thea. She nodded and slowly unfolded her limbs, stretching her legs to relieve the ache. "Thank you, Cullen, and I - I will keep your concerns in mind. They are not without merit." He smiled and stood, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. Thea took it, wrapping her slender fingers around his larger ones, and she could feel his warmth even through the leather of his gloves. It caused her stomach to lurch, though not unpleasantly, and she quickly released his hand.

Cullen appeared not to have noticed his discomfort, his eyes drifting back to the scrawled missive on the desk. "Herald, I don't mean to pry, but..." He trailed off, hesitant to meet her eyes.

"Her name was Mela'rah." Thea's voice was dull, but not broken, and she drew comfort from that. "She came to the Conclave with me." She let the rest hang unspoken between them.

"She was a close friend." It wasn't a question.

"Friend, sister, guardian; she was everything I thought I had lost after being sent to the Circle." Cullen didn't press, but Thea found herself continuing. "She wasn't meant to be there, but I convinced her to accompany me. We'd never been apart for twenty-two years and I... I was afraid." Thea scrubbed her hands over her face and through her jaw-length curls, hating herself for showing weakness, but grateful that Cullen didn't comment on it. "I can still hear her voice, still smell the oil she used on her hair." She let her hands fall to her sides and her head hung forward. "Her memory haunts me, and I am so tired of crying."

Cullen's arms closed around her, pressing her gently against him so that her face was nestled in the fur of his cloak. The sudden action startled her, but she relaxed into the embrace, grateful for the warmth and safety it offered. His chin rested against her temple, breath ruffling her hair when he spoke. "I'm so sorry, Althea."

Thea made a face against the black and red tufts. "Please, just Thea. I'll never know what my mother was thinking, naming me that." Abruptly, she leaned back enough to look his face, trying to ignore the vibration his chuckle sent through her. "You just called me by my name." One side of her mouth lifted in a playful half-smile. "I hadn't thought you capable."

The other side of her lips rose in a delighted grin when Cullen blushed - genuinely _blushed_ \- and released her, taking a step back as one hand came up to rub the back of his neck. "'Herald' is... more respectful, as benefitting your position."

"Be that as it may, I would prefer my friends call me Thea." He glanced up at her, expression just this side of surprised. "Can I ask that you try to use my name rather than my title, even if it's only when it's just the two of us?"

Cullen flushed darker and Thea's smile widened. For all his imposing stature and self-assured swagger on the field, the man's face practically glowed when he was uncomfortable. "I, ah, I will do my best, Her - Thea." He cleared his throat and moved his hands back to the pommel of his sword, a clear attempt to regain control of the situation. "The others are waiting to discuss our next move. Join us, if you feel you are able. After all, none of this means anything without you."

Thea rubbed her left hand, lips twisting in a wry smile. "Right. Everything falls apart without the mark."

"And the woman attached to it." The intensity in his gaze and voice startled her. "You are just as valuable, if not more so. You are an inspiration." She gaped at him and Cullen colored once more, hand moving to the back of his neck again. "T-to all of us, I mean, To the Inquisition." He swallowed hard and gestured toward the door. "We should go, before Leliana sends her agents after us."

Thea composed herself, though a small smile continued to play across her lips and a steady warmth glowed in her chest. "Lead the way, Commander." He rolled his eyes at the glibness in her tone and strode out of the cabin, glancing back to ensure she was following. Thea hurried to catch up, matching Cullen's strides back toward the village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/suggestions are welcome and appreciated!


End file.
